


Lips Are For Biting Here

by neptunedemon



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, College, Explicit Sexual Content, Getting Together, Hooking up, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 22:25:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15374691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neptunedemon/pseuds/neptunedemon
Summary: Otabek and Yuri hit it off at a party, and then everywhere else.





	Lips Are For Biting Here

It starts with Yuri Plisetsky riding his dick at some stranger’s house.

The party of a friend of a friend. Otabek doesn’t go to these. He wonders if Yuri usually does. Is that how he could see him again? Because he’d like to.

Yuri seems like the type to try to stay quiet during sex. When he’s not drunk and high.

Because right now he’s yelling out, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Between that are yelps and pitchy little grunts as he slams down onto his dick. Over and over and fucking over. Otabek has got a grip so tight on his hips he might bruise him, and his heels dig into the bed as he fucks into Yuri straight back. They’re bouncing the bed hard, and it’s squeaking like beds do in fucking movies. Of course whosever room they’re in has a squeaky bed.

It doesn’t matter.

Yeah, Otabek never goes to these. But he did tonight. Partially boredom, partial begging on his friend’s part.

He doesn’t know what him ending up here means.

Yuri is hot and tight, but they drunkenly slipped on way too much lube, so Otabek is sliding in and out fast and easy. He still hopes that Yuri doesn’t hurt in the morning.

Yuri’s dick between them is pink and swollen and Otabek had been fine to just slam into this guy until they both blew up, but he stares up at his scrunched up face with hair sweeping across his shoulders - he’s really pretty, and really messed up, and something about that makes Otabek a little hungry to see him fall to pieces.

He grabs his dick, holds it loosely as Yuri keeps riding him and thus automatically fucks into his hand.

Yuri’s eyes fly open and he gasps, eyes on Otabek. Wow, he’s cute. He takes the sudden slowed pace to thumb at the head, and Yuri seems to nearly choke. He rises and fucks onto him again. Otabek starts pumping his hand. Fast.

Otabek only knew who Yuri was because his friend had told him. “That’s Yuri Plisetsky.  He’s in my chem class.”

Otabek had been breaking for a drink after being danced on by the guy. They were both hard and needed a breather. _He thought._

When Otabek came back he was drunker, but chiller. Yuri came back smelling like weed and he immediately pressed his still-hard dick into Otabek’s ass.

He hadn’t lasted much longer after that.

Yuri whimpers. His dick twitches in his hand - and then he’s coming. Coming hard and a whole lot.

His ass squeezes his own dick - and shit!! Shit, Yuri is still managing to keep fucking him, bouncing just as fast as before even as he’s riding through his own orgasm. He’s yelling out, gripping Otabek’s shoulders now. Otabeks eyes are all over him as he fucks him mad. God he’s so close, heat is spiking over and over again in him and he just-

_Fuck_ Yuri is a sight with his skin all sheened with sweat. Otabek wishes he could lean forward and nip his collar bone or suck on one of his rosy nipples. Shit.

He trips straight over the edge without warning. Suddenly he’s just shuddering into him, holding Yuri down on him as he pushes a few more shallow, deep thrusts, and Yuri just lets him. All loose and warm and good.

They pant together a long while. Hanging onto each other, a mess, and Yuri’s skin is sticky sweet and Otabek resists pressing his nose to it and catching his smell.

Yuri eventually laughs a little. He says, “What’s your name again, sweetie?”

Otabek’s stomach flips. He just fucked someone who doesn’t know his name. He’s surprised he even remembered Yuri’s.

“Otabek Altin,” he says and nearly winces at the drunken inclusion of his last name.

“Ah,” Yuri sighs. Grins a little more.

He leans forward to kiss Otabek. Yuri’s soft. His chest hums as Yuri pushes his tongue inside and tastes him like saying good-bye.

He rolls off him. Starts easily putting himself together. Otabek wonders how he can move. Otabek wasn’t the one getting split, and he can barely budge.

Yuri fumbles a little shoving on his clothes, but he seems mostly fine.

“That was good,” he says. “Wow.”

Otabek’s got his pants on when Yuri is fully dressed.

“I’ll go out first.” Yuri backs to the door and gives a wink. “See you, Otabek Altin?”

He avoids staring too long. “See you.”

 

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

 

Next time it was less spectacular.

He’d maybe jerked off once a day to that memory, burning it into his brain in the dark.

When he and Yuri happened to pass each other in one of the campus buildings, his mind had blanked. It was well after regular hours; Otabek had a late class, and who knew why Yuri was around.

He sees him coming and they lock eyes. Not knowing what he wants, Otabek just bails into a nearby restroom. The way his heart is making an unsteady racket makes him feel like a kid with a crush. Except they’re fucking adults, and what happened was something they did drunk.

Yuri might not even remember him.

He blinks when he hears the door open. Blinks again when Yuri is standing there.

Otabek looks at him. _Um._

He’s dressed way nicer than his scraps of party clothes that Otabek only remembers for the lack of them. If he looks long enough he might be able to catch a bigger glimpse of another facet of Yuri, but he’s distracted by the smirk he’s giving him right now.

So his hair is kemp now. He doesn’t smell like booze and drugs. But he would still fuck him into any surface, Otabek decides quickly.

Yuri grabs his wrist and Otabek is weak in both will and knees as he drags him into a stall.

It’s less spectacular because they wet each other’s hand and do hand jobs. But it’s Yuri, so it’s still sort of amazing. Their dicks touch together and their hands bump each others as they stroke the other into the sooner orgasm.

Otabek came first this time.

He uses his come to rub Yuri more and it seems to drive him mad.

They’re both taking heavy drags of breath even as someone outside the stalls pisses at the urinals.

Otabek wants to feel free of his entanglement with Yuri now. He had hoped that’s what this would bring him - if he just got to touch him once more, then surely...

But instead he notices a deeper desire for Yuri that’s lodged in him. He’d need something more to pull it out. He wants to _fuck_ Yuri again. Hard and alone and for a long time.

Otabek doesn’t realize until quite later that Yuri also must’ve been thinking heavily about him to shove them into that stall.

 

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

 

He goes to the next party invited by that same friend and seeks him out. He doesn’t know whether to be sober or fucking blasted or what.

He settles on being halfway to how fucked up he was last time. He wants to erase the dry sobriety of the bathroom incident from his head.

When he and Yuri lock eyes they both turn around. Otabek reaches for a drink.

He glances back in time to see Yuri walk out the door.

They’re at someone else’s house and they’ve got paths to bedrooms barricaded. Fair enough. He means 100% fair, because _ew_ , who wants them fucking on their bed; Otabek tries to detach that first blissful experience from being on someone else’s stuff.

But _fuck_...

He follows Yuri out the door, drink forgotten in the end.

Yuri is just beyond the door. He laughs the moment Otabek steps out and grabs his pant’s waistband and tugs. He starts pulling him around the house. His eyes flit to the left and right and behind Otabek as he drags him.

“Shame about the bedrooms,” he comments.

That night they decide the back wall of the house is damned good enough. Voices drift near them but no one ever bothers to come into the dark space they occupy. Still, they don’t fuck all the way. Too much time, too many still possible moments to get caught, even if that would be half the fun.

Otabek’s dick is between Yuri’s legs, and Yuri’s hands are flat against the wall. His palms slide down a little as Otabek sucks his neck.

The scraping probably hurts.

He bites. Yuri hisses.

That probably hurts too.

Yuri’s thighs aren’t his ass but they’re still _him_ , and he’s still able to push his body against him and grab him everywhere.

He fucks Yuri’s dick with his hand and holds his hip with the other. “Fuck,” he mutters, pressing into Yuri more, and more, shit! If they could just fuck. For real. Yuri gasps something back and Otabek misses it but responds to what he imagines it was.

He can’t stop thinking about the wet slide of Yuri’s ass. Yuri gripping his shoulders and practically steering, yelling, choking. That cock he wished he got to touch more. He wants him again like that.

He comes between Yuri’s legs, and Yuri comes onto the wall.

“Gimme your number,” Yuri whispers eventually. His breath is still half a pant.

Otabek’s fingers are weak and slow as he types it into the phone Yuri passes him.

He doesn’t know what Yuri means, but he knows what he wants him to mean.

 

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

 

Two days later Otabek is texted an address. At 10:30 pm.

He goes to it, tense. He brought a drink with him. So he pops the cap off, swigs. Messages, _I’m here._

Gets a message, _2822_. He takes another drink.

Building 2.

Otabek goes up the elevator to the 8th floor and finds 2822. On one knock the door swings open.

“Otabek Altin,” Yuri says. He’s standing in the doorway with a long T-shirt. It’s dark, except for the glow of a lamp somewhere inside.

“Yuri.”

Yuri grabs his hand and pulls. The door slams shut.

Otabek maybe expects to be shoved back into the doorway and pressed against, kissed down deep and fast, because that was the look in Yuri’s eyes.

But he leads him toward the lamplight glow. It’s into a bedroom; Yuri’s bedroom? He looks around as they enter and tries to catch a peek inside this person he’s been inside.

Yuri’s hand cups his cheek and pulls his attention back to him, letting it drag down Otabek until reaching his hip. Otabek watches Yuri with such a great intensity that he feels his eyes practically burn.

Yuri pulls himself against him and grinds into Otabek’s dick through that cotton T-shirt, and Otabek’s hands are on on his ass instantly. Yuri feels naked underneath the long shirt and he grits his teeth. He’s so freaking hot.

He curls a leg around Otabek’s and leans up to kiss him with lips that are wet and taste like alcohol. Shit, they’re so stupid.

He pulls away to ask, “You want in my ass again?”

_“Yes.”_

“Mm.”

Yuri’s fingers dance little patterns across him has he hums. He’s looking Otabek up and down, tasting him with his eyes. Their cocks are still hard and clothed together. Otabek loves this teasing, but also hates it.

Yuri leans forward then. His eyes are, for a glimpse, a little softer, as and presses his lips near Otabek’s ear. He whispers, “Tell me if I should stop.”

He couldn’t imagine Yuri doing anything he’d ever want to end.

Yuri spins him around and pushes him onto the bed. Otabek almost loses his breath, he’s surprised, but turned on so fast by the assertion that he hisses profanities to the covers.

However he doesn’t miss Yuri’s next words.

“Maybe I want in yours.”

Otabek nearly chokes. Oh, fucking _yes_ . Yes. _“Yes.”_

He knocks him over again and Otabek is on his back. He stares up at Yuri hovering there, hungry and godly. Otabek rubs hands over his thighs, under the shirt. His fingers catch along something. Something with frills and lace, so he tugs the shirt up to reveal lace pantries stretching around his hips. His very hard cock is pushing out from under them. So he wasn’t naked. He was something better.

God, damn. Otabek starts palming along Yuri’s cock and tugs at the straps of the panties. “You’re so hot,” he manages. He feels entranced by him; it’s wrecking him more by the second.

Yuri catches his fingers as he reaches down. Otabek thinks he’s about to pull the panties off, but Yuri takes his hand and guides it over himself instead. Like touching himself through Otabek. With his other hand, he plays with the lacy straps and runs them down his dick, completely fucking with Otabek. It’s insane, and demanding, and slow, and Otabek really might die. His heart is going to choke him or he will overheat or something. He’s also still dressed and aching in the most horrible way by the weight of all those clothes.

Yuri finally starts messing with the fastenings of Otabek’s pants. “So I’m going to get you ready, and I’m going to fuck you, okay?”

“Yes, _please_.”

Yuri fucks him hard. So hard that in a few seconds, Otabek’s dick is twitching and he’s nearly biting hard into the pillow.

Yuri’s rough, tired little moans and gruff gasps are heaven. He’s losing it above and behind Otabek. Yuri grips Otabek with fingers digging into his hips and slams into him. Otabek wants to roll over and watch him from below, be mesmerized by how sweaty he is and how his hair is falling around his face in a blissed out mess.

It feels really good when Yuri comes inside him. Something about it stirs Otabek in so many ways, thinking about Yuri just fucking him hard until he can get off... but Yuri reaches around him and starts pumping Otabek’s dick. Otabek can imagine anything more he’d ever want until Yuri’s thumb and palm are rubbing circles around the head of his dick, leaving no room for Otabek to even catch his breath before his body is trembling with over-stimulation.

He stays in that shivery, shaky place for a minute as Yuri stays pushed inside him and stroking hard.

Yuri is slumped across Otabek’s back, held up by shaking arms, and Yuri suddenly bites down onto his shoulder. It was like fucking words being shot into his skin, something like “Come” And “Now” maybe? Because Otabek does. Everywhere.

(He gives them ten minutes then stumbles out, exhausted and strewn and alone.)

 

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

 

_Are you free?_

Otabek grits his teeth. He’s mad, mad at himself for the shiver that cuts through him at the simple words sent.

It’s Friday, but unfortunately still early in the afternoon. He’s in class, and he’s been taking diligent notes until... now.

He’s surprised that Yuri is messaging him this early in the day. Still, he can’t help the twist of excitement in his stomach.

Unfortunately he sends back, _In class._

A minute passes with his pencil to paper. One second he’s straining to refocus on the lecture. The other 59, he’s staring at his phone so hard it might push off the desk.

_Unfortunate._

He swallows hard. His palms are hot when he sets the pencil down and takes the phone again. He could just agree, or...

_Why is that?_

_Hmm. I don’t know._

He’s not sure what to message back, whether to push flirting (ugh, is that what he’s doing?) but Yuri sends something else.

_Horny as fuck, can only think of you, was hoping I could see you soon._

Otabek can barely read it all in one glance. A student coughs several seats down and he nearly jumps from his seat. God, he should just leave and... go see Yuri. Definitely that.

… He can’t. There’s a test next class. And there’d be the glare from his professor and potentially missing an end-of-class pop quiz.

The thoughts are mood killers but they’re necessary. He tries to hold onto them and not reread the words on his screen for a millionth time.

_Damn_ is all he can send back.

Another minute goes by, then another message flows in. It’s a picture, and -

He slams his phone face down on the desk. He shoots a paranoid glance at the students immediately around him, but no one looks even half alive. His blood is running hot though. He’s spinning.

Otabek pulls the phone closer to him and turns it over again, right as another picture sends in. One look sends his eyes straight to the ceiling. Fucking hell, he doesn’t want to get this turned on right now.

The next image has accompanying text matching its graphic: _Miss your mouth._

Shit. That was it. _Wait stop. I’m coming over, there in twenty. Don’t you dare finish without me._

_Omg, yesss okay!_

_But hurry._

Otabek nearly stumbles out of his chair.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

 

Yuri’s cock in his mouth was so damn good. What was it about shoving Yuri onto the bed and wrapping his legs over his shoulders and going down on him? He loves to hike him up high, let his dick slide to the back of his throat, and hear him gasp and feel him twitch.

“You’re- you’re-“ Yuri gasps, and Otabek ignores every ache and pain in his jaw or muscles and tries to destroy him. He’s light-headed and feeling high when Yuri’s heels dig down into the bed and he crying out.

“You weren’t supposed to-“ Yuri breathes; his sentence falls away as Otabek kisses his stomach.

 

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

 

“Yuri...”

He drops to his knees with light thuds. So pretty and light. Otabek bites down on his lip and tries to keep his composure when Yuri takes his dick and presses it into his lips, like he’s gotta nudge it inside for himself. Otabek reels when he does and grabs his hair. Then he lightens the grip, comes around and caressed under his chin as Yuri pushes himself farther onto Otabek.

So good.

 

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

 

The next time Otabek stays over it’s a little different. Fun at first.

Yuri summons him through text as usual. Otabek enters the place and it’s only lit by that corner lamp. Yuri is dressed up tonight for some strange reason, in a nice shirt and tie and slacks. “I had a presentation,” Yuri explains when Otabek rakes his eyes across him. “An hour ago.”

A presentation? On a Thursday night? Otabek wants to know more, because the vision of this wild and poisonous person being a hard hitting academic by daylight is insanely hot. But Yuri clinks two tiny glasses between his fingers and says, “Shots?” And Otabek just nods.

So they take a few shots, flirting madly with eyes and Otabek becomes aware Yuri didn’t leave his outfit on because there was no time to change… of course there had been.

By the time they’re falling onto the bed, their minds are whirlwinds of each other with Yuri’s hands hungrily shoving down Otabek’s pants, and Otabek curling fingers through his hair and yanking on his tie. Can he tear buttons? That’s something he never imagined actually doing. But buzzed and dizzy in the dim light on Yuri’s bed, it seems extremely plausible.

At the last second he fears that might be rude and fumbles through the buttons as fast as he can. Yuri watches him heavily like this was some grand gesture on Otabek’s behalf.

They spend long amounts of time tracing each other’s bodies, teasing the other; Otabek loves it. He loves the way alcohol gives them the reckless sense of longevity in the night even though they have classes tomorrow. The way they don’t care about anything but crashing into each crevice and space of their bodies.

There’s something so safe yet so dangerous about Yuri. The way he moves his body is skilled and reckless, but every touch from him is educated and cunning. Has he tried to study Otabek the same way he’s studied Yuri? Always trying to nab a glimpse beyond their hunger…

But whatever. Yuri is gorgeous and naked now.

Otabek can’t resist and so he doesn’t. He sucks his cock while his hands rove from rubbing it to cupping his balls to swiveling round and running up his stomach. He twists a nipple and Yuri huffs with an almost resisted jerk into Otabek’s mouth. Otabek is fine, and he hums and tweaks his nipples with both hands this time.

Through heavy breathing Yuri sits up a little. Otabek moves off him enough to read his expression.

“I want to- I-“ It’s not that he’s breathing hard, but that he’s struggling to voice something. Otabek can’t imagine what request he’d have that he wouldn’t spend all his energies committing to.

Yuri gestures a motion with his arms and Otabek isn’t quite sure what he’s on about. Plus he’s struggling to focus, pulling himself in to start mouthing against Yuri’s thigh. It’s hard to not keep doing things to him.

However he certainly focuses when Yuri shifts their positions by pushing him down onto the bed. Otabek thinks he’s just going to start sucking him off, and it really seems like that’s a correct guess for a minute.

But Yuri finishes adjusting and Otabek grips Yuri’s thighs over him, perfect and insanely hot understanding at last.

He gets his cock in his mouth again, while Yuri, with a much better position, starts sucking him so fucking well that it takes all his energies to remember to breathe. So he hollows his cheeks and sucks in air through his nose and keeps going. He doesn’t know what possessed Yuri to try this position, but though it’s hard to maintain, a slow roiling heat is dragging itself through his entire body. It’s heat radiating down from Yuri, and up from him, and hell he wishes he could get more of Yuri down his throat from the bottom like this.

His hands slide from Yuri’s hips to his ass and he grips him. Yuri makes a small sound around his dick and Otabek tries not to latch onto how solidly he’s getting sucked because he can’t fucking come right now. Now yet.

His fingers aren’t lubed so he can’t get inside Yuri like he’d love to this moment, but he rubs against his hole, kneading his middle finger against the muscle there. Yuri’s mouth opens around his dick as he whimpers.

Otabek is so fucking eager. He rubs him just a little harder there, and Yuri trembles a little.

They don’t stay like that much longer once Otabek’s neck has strained and Yuri’s knees and elbows become weak.

Only apart for a second, Yuri grabs onto Otabek, latches hands into his hair and pulls himself onto his mouth. He’s outrageous, incredible. Otabek feels his thoughts drift with the feel of Yuri’s tongue. He pushes his cock against Otabek’s and Otabek hitches forward before he can help it. It pushes their mouths closer together, and their cocks, and Yuri moans against it all.

Yuri first fucks down onto his fingers as he kneels over his lap. But soon they’re knocking his back against the headboard to get Otabek’s cock inside. With hands holding tight onto his shoulders, Yuri throws his head back and bites his lip. _Damn._ They get Yuri’s legs positioned to hold himself steady, and he leans back into the headboard for more support.

He’s so good. Otabek spends a few gentle moments running a hand through his hair and hopes Yuri knows. He’s just so good.  

It’s almost like he’s riding him like the first night, except Yuri is half off the bed and his arms are clutching the headboard for composure as Otabek knocks into him.

So. Fucking. Good.

Yuri grunts something, hisses, gasps; his legs stretch apart and he lazes against the bed structure so that Otabek is knocking him against it, and he’s all loose and pliant and just accepting to it all. Every so often the headboard hits against the wall; Otabek would be more careful if Yuri didn’t bite his lip and squeeze his eyes to clamp down a moan every time.

Yuri’s body tenses and his grip strengthens around the headboard. Otabek eats it all in, wanting everything piece of him.

 

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

 

The lay there in dark, motionless, their arms next to one another tangled. They stay that way for a long time.

When Yuri randomly starts and sits up, it’s easy to deduce that he fell asleep.

He stares with soft, dazed eyes down at Otabek, who smiles blearily. Though inside he’s starting to stir. He’s gotta leave, he’s gotta pull himself up off the bed and head out. He’ll have to sober up with a hit of night air.

The lamp clicks off and Yuri’s back hits the bed again.

They’re still another moment until Otabek questions with a simple, “Um?”

“You aren’t sober enough to drive.” His voice is detached in the dark. He sounds like he’s facing away.

“I am.”

He sits up to prove his point. The head-swaying begins and he clenches his teeth against it. “See?” he declares anyhow, hoping to fool Yuri. “I’m fine. Totally here.”

Otabek thinks Yuri fell asleep again. But then he responds. “Fine then. But you can stay, it’s not big deal.”

After forcing himself to mutter thanks, he doesn’t move. Should he go? It would be safer to stay. He could easily slip out after a few hours go by and he’s rested up.

He creeps around the maze of excuses in his mind, because it’s not actually a bad idea.

Especially when an ambiguous number of minutes pass and Otabek finds himself struggling to blink awake. He will stay, just a little while, until he can go. He barely grabs the covers to pull them over himself before he’s slipping into the warm lull of the bed, and Yuri’s evening breaths somewhere in the dark.

 

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

 

He doesn’t open his eyes again until light is peaking in through the curtains. It takes Otabek only a second to remember he isn’t home, and he is up fast.

The rise of blankets that must be Yuri is near enough that Otabek almost startles off the bed. He must’ve rolled closer in the night. He’s still asleep, with light hair falling out from the hold of blankets.

Otabek stares only long enough to admire the sun streaks across his face, and then be forced to turn away when Yuri’s hand twitches and clutches the pillow a little. He’s too cute. It’s hard to imagine the kind of rough sex they got into when the light was low.

He looks around the room to find his clothes, but finds himself instead noticing the room itself. It’s kind of… typical of a college student. There’s a desk with a closed laptop on top surrounded by a mess of papers and books. Bookshelves filled thick with volumes and trinkets, beads and necklaces pouring out from where they were strung around other objects.

He has a dresser with clothes bursting from its drawers; there was a fluffy mass in one of its exposed piles. Otabek nearly misses the eyes staring at him.

Oh, a cat…

He gives it a faint smile and wonders if it’d been in the room the entire night.

The walls are pretty bare save for a few random tacked on photos and then one piece of art - a painting of a snowy field.

There’s a strangeness to seeing someone’s personal spaces. The places where they live out their vulnerable moments. In Yuri’s space, Otabek feels a little warm, a little comfortable. But Yuri stirs again and he drops his eyes to the floor like he’s been caught snooping.

His phone isn’t anywhere he can see, so he quietly moves off the bed and searches his clothes like for it. His wallet falls from a pocket while he does so, but the phone is recovered. The battery is at 17%, which is _something_. And it’s 6:42 am. Time to get home and shower and maybe grab coffee somewhere before class.

He’s stretching up to pull his shirt on when he realizes Yuri is no longer laying there like a sleeping little prince, but propped up on his elbows watching Otabek dress. When their gazes meet, Yuri throws his stare to the window and sits up to stretch. “Morning,” he says. “What time is it? Did I miss class?”

“You didn’t,” Otabek says.

Yuri flops back onto the bed. “Damn. Would have been worth it.”

Otabek fights a blush. “It’s uh, it’s early still.”

“Mmm.”

“Thanks for letting me crash here.” He checks his pocket for car keys. They’re there, jingly and cold, and he lets the metal dig into his palm as he grips them and chances a glance Yuri’s way.

He’s watching Otabek with a trace of wariness. “Yeah, of course.”

Otabek nabs his wallet from the floor and pats down his clothes a final time. It doesn’t feel right, but he doesn’t know what else to do or say. “Well… see you.”

“Yeah. See you.”

 

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

 

Otabek showers, changes, and definitely has enough time for coffee. He feels good for someone so sleep-deprived. The sun is bright and it’s Friday. He only has two classes today. Despite the awkward morning - and it wasn’t so bad, really - his night with Yuri was exciting. He doesn’t want to be thinking so soon about where they might find themselves next, mostly because he doesn’t want to get his hopes up for a meeting tonight.

He enters a quaint little coffee shop nestled into the corner of a street and orders his usual, then turns to lay eyes on a familiar person staring at him with wide, surprised eyes.  

Otabek and Yuri stare at each other across just a small bit of space. It’s 9 am, bright and early, and they’re shrouded in light and coffee scent and chipper voices.

A dark spot just above Yuri’s collarbone is only almost covered by his shirt; it catches Otabek’s eye. It’s a hickey from the previous night.

His eyes hit the ceiling and he breathes deep. He’s a goddamn animal, what the fuck.

Yuri turns away to grab his coffee when it’s called out, then he steps into place next to Otabek. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey.”

Damn, Otabek curses to himself. This is fucking awkward. Together they flail for words - something about the weather is maybe mentioned? Otabek isn’t sure through the racing of his heart, and that mark on Yuri’s neck stands out like a patch of burning grass in a field. Yuri could have tried harder to cover that, if he really wanted too…

Otabek’s coffee is finally called out.

They both have mugs for drinking in-house. Otabek had figured he’d take a seat and scroll through his email and social media while he sipped his drink, but now he sorely wishes he could escape. Yet he doesn’t want the awkward space of the morning (and now) to swell between them until they were pushed apart.

“Wanna sit together?” Otabek says before he can chicken out and be rude.

Yuri’s eyes only widen a little, but there’s relief there. He sighs and nods. “Yeah, okay.”

They sit at a table for two by the window. It’s so small they’re practically pushed up against the other.

The sun streams in through the pane easily, and that helps relax Otabek’s nerves. It’s a good day, he reminds himself.

“If you had work you were wanting to do,” Otabek checks, “don’t let me stop you.”

“N-no, I don’t.” Yuri’s eyes can’t meet his, and he takes a long sip to keep from speaking more.

They sit like that an excruciating thirty seconds: taking little sips, nodding to the side and being particularly horrible strangers considering they each knew what the inside of the other’s ass felt like.

Finally though, Yuri asks, “So classes today?”

Otabek lists his courses.

“Wait, you have Dr. Giacometti?”

“Yes.”

“I’m taking him for a different chemistry. But he’s totally weird to me.”

Otabek grins to know Yuri didn’t fare well under Dr. Giacometti’s intimate methods of teaching. “He’s just eccentric.”

“What about Dr. Katsuki? Have him?”

“I did last semester. I liked him a lot. He was rather soothing to listen to, but passionate.”

Yuri shakes his head. “No, god no. He was a sap. Coulda swore I walked in on him crying over physics in his office...”

“Do you like any professor?” Otabek teases.

Otabek almost resents how fast the other patrons melt away as he and Yuri begin to focus on one another.

They move onto discussing the apartment complex Yuri lives in, carefully avoiding why Otabek knows where he lives, and then Otabek’s place. They discuss their jobs. Their coffees run dry when Yuri is throwing his arms to the air to rant about the non-fair trade coffee beans all the campus cafes use. Otabek asks him about what he is studying, and in turn Yuri asks him.

Yuri has an internship he’s busy with; that’s what he’d had a presentation for the previous evening. He’s modest, but he’s clearly prestigious for an undergraduate. Just how hot that sort of intelligence and togetherness is mixed with Yuri’s wildness is something Otabek decides to focus on way later.

It wasn’t much more than small talk when 10:30 hit, yet Otabek hadn’t noticed the time go.

They were both leaning into each other across the table and seemed to notice at the same time. They back off and eye contact is thrown to the floor again.

“I guess I have to go to class soon,” Yuri says. The reluctance in his voice kills Otabek. He speaks without thinking.

“I’d like to see you again.”

Yuri’s eyes light up with a burst of excitement that betrays the stoic and pleasant expression of the rest of his face. He saves himself by grinning and trying to look suave, and it almost works, by which it basically manages to give Otabek’s heart a solid thud. “I already figured I’d see you again.” Before Otabek can fluster or struggle for another set of words - Yuri has him so fussed, hell - he continues, “Because your ID fell out of your wallet. It’s back at my place.”

“Oh shit!” As if Yuri would be lying, Otabek pulls out his wallet and shuffles through its pockets. Sure enough, no ID. “Damn.”

“Yeah.” Yuri’s smile is a little devious; there’s a glint in his eyes. Otabek doesn’t know what’s harder on his breathing: Yuri’s shyness, or Yuri’s confidence. “I planned to message you later today about maybe… coming over and getting it?”

Yuri is giving him a bit of a test. Otabek tries his best. “Well… for your honesty and not stealing my identity, could I… take you to dinner?” There’s a pause as Yuri appears to fight down a smile. He’s clearly twisting his hands under the table.

Someone behind the counter shatters a mug on the floor but neither of them even jump.

“Shall I bring your ID out, then?”

“I shouldn’t be driving without it, but… past events tell us it’d be safer if we kept it at your place until after dinner.”

Yuri has let his hair fall well into his face. His grin is maddeningly pure, and his hands have moved to idly shifting his empty mug around on its plate. “Makes perfect sense,” he sorta teases, sorta… something. Otabek isn’t sure, he’s just fucking crazy.

“Okay, then. I’ll text you later?”

Yuri’s eyes meet his from under lashes. “Sounds good.”

Otabek is late for class. He hardly notices.

 

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

 

So it ends, and also sort of begins again, with Yuri Plisetsky riding his dick. But this time in Yuri’s room, thank goodness.

He feels kinda fucking incredible, hands on Otabek’s chest as his muscles work to bring him down hard. The room is dim and they lit candles to be sort of funny cheesy romantic, but it’s actually fucking hot to watch the orange light flicker and glow across the sheen of Yuri’s skin. His hair is golden in it. It shimmers deep like embers as he moves. Beautiful.

Or actually, _“Beautiful.”_ Otabek doesn’t realize he gasps that aloud until it’s already thrown into the warm space between them. Yuri is maybe shy to the word but he doesn’t tell him to stop.

It’s all Otabek can do to _not_ overwhelm Yuri immediately with his touch. And _fuck_ it’s incredible everytime he responds and gasps, and there’s moments where he manages to glance Otabek in the eyes. He always flashes a smile and does something with his body that nearly wrecks the damn world.

Dinner was good. They talked for probably two ridiculous hours. They rolled into Yuri’s home and yeah, Otabek got his ID back when Yuri wrapped his arms around him from behind and slipped it into his pants, all the while whispering some shit into his ear that should be illegal.

Otabek comes first, and Yuri mutters a slurred string of _fuck yes_ as he slams down onto him. Otabek is weak but driven as hell when he keeps fucking his hand down onto Yuri’s cock. He manages to lift himself to cradle Yuri’s back enough so Yuri has more support as he moves over him. Otabek kisses his chest, tries to nip and bite skin and shoulder and lick over his nipple, ravage him a million ways at once, until Yuri’s fucking gone.

The first one to speak beyond the gasps is Yuri. And he says, trailing a mindless finger down Otabek’s chest, “I like you, _Otabek Altin_.”

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](http://twitter.com/neptunedemon/) | [tumblr](http://skateonme.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thanks for reading! hope it was enjoyable and fun. <3 sorry if it was typo-heavy. usually i do a text-to-speech listen to catch typos but didn't for this one! hard to hear a monotone voice read out your smut :') 
> 
> if you like my work, i'm excited to announce i'll be writing otayuri for [a place to call home](http://domesticotayurizine.tumblr.com/), a domestic otayuri zine <3 look forward to me there! :D got amazing talent i get to work with


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